Set Me on Fire
by fatheartsarewhatcounts
Summary: It's been a while since Beca Mitchell has felt… Well, anything really besides the constant ache in her chest that comes from losing someone you love. Her life has been a dark cloud for so long that when a bright force comes in the form of Chloe Beale, she is blown right out of the sky. WARNING: Themes such as self harm are included in this story and may act as a trigger to some.
1. How a Lightbulb Loses Its Glow

Cut marks started to appear on Beca's left arm around the time when she began to refuse food. For every fight that her parents engaged in, every insult that was maliciously thrown across the room, and every tear that ran down her mother's face as her father walked out the door, a shallow and neat line was traced across Beca's wrist. She lost her bright, bubbly outlook on life and took on a cynical approach to every situation, the strong walls she built up acting as her only defense to the cruel loneliness she was subject to.

The cutting began as her own silent cry for help, an experiment to see if anyone would notice, if anyone cared, if anyone was there looking out for her. Along the way, they morphed into her way of punishing herself, for not being good enough, not good enough for her father, not for him to stick around for, not in the end.

Nobody noticed, which was partly due to the fact that Beca's body language had shifted entirely so that her forearm was mostly hidden when she moved, and the way she donned tops of long sleeves on most occasions.

Nobody was aware of her pain, which seemingly made it worse.

She felt like such a loser to be like this, constantly craving attention but shutting out anyone who offered it to her, but she couldn't help it. She'd started along a very dark trail in her life, one to be navigated alone, and with each step taken; it was made a multitude harder to turn back.

So Beca, at the ripe young age of fourteen, lost her glow, that one that was always the first thing people would notice about her when she was younger. It was replaced with the shadow of her old personality, her bright grins lost to exasperated scowls and half smirks. Her innocence waned away at an alarmingly fast speed, and with it her weight began to drop.

As anorexia, a product of the depression, crept along swiftly until it was menacingly threatening Beca's health and creating noticeable differences in the already tiny girl, her mother finally spoke up.

"Honey." She said one day as they were picking at sandwiches at the kitchen table. Beca's eyes shot up to stare at her mother. It was the first time her mom had spoken to her in two months, having collapsed into a state of her own depression with the departure of her husband, a kind of stupor where there was no reality and no dreams, everything surreal and she was living on autopilot. "I'm so sorry I haven't…. been here for you. I can't tell how much it hurts me that I've slipped away when you needed me most. I…. I don't know how I ended up this way." Her voice faltered on the last word, breaking with the strain of her composure. The façade that she had donned momentarily came crumbling down and she broke, collapsing into sobs. Beca longed to run away as she watched her mother cry, she wanted to run to her room and make another addition to the artwork of scars on her arm, because here she was, feeling broken and alone and like a piece of shit again. And here she was, again, helpless and unable to do anything but watch her mother fall to pieces. But instead, she stood up and wrapped her arms around her mother.

"Mom. It's ok, you don't have to." Beca whispered, tears streaking down her face at the sight of her mother's.

"No. I really do need to say this. This is unhealthy. We've been here, not really living, just co-existing. We need to live, Becs. We need to laugh and cry and sing and dance and smile like we used to. We need to be a family. You need to stop…. Stop hurting yourself. I'm so sorry, so incredibly fucking sorry that you've been doing that, but just stop. Come back to me, Beca. I need you to come back to me, and I'll try like hell to come back to you, and maybe together we can try to work our way back to some faint trace of happiness."

Beca began to slowly make her long trek back, but here's the thing about the place she was in. It takes so much longer to get out of then it does to enter, and it was more than a year before she felt like she resembled her old self again, and another three months on top of that before she felt like she was strong again, not the weak person she'd been drowning in.

Her mother didn't back out on her promise, and together they both tried, coming out of it closer than ever, but of course never really the same, because you can fix something that was broken but it will still always bear the signs of its abuse.

Beca turned to music as an outlet for her emotions, instead of her own body, and started to experiment with tracks and harmonies to mix together wonderful melodies.

Her first successful mix was a mash up of Coldplay's 'Fix You' and the Beatles' 'Here Comes the Sun'. She made it for her mom, a message of her love and hope for the future.

Her mom had always been her biggest fan, telling all her friends about Beca's wonderful talent, even before Beca had even figured out what a BPM was. She always offered creative critiques and much of Beca's style as an artist resonated from her mother's careful help and patient listening to five different remixes of one song at a time to help Beca choose the best layering.

They'd often spend rainy afternoons sprawled out on the floor of the lounge room with their extensive collection of CD's, imaginatively cooking up outrageous ideas for Beca's next song, laughing and smiling and singing together, like they'd always wanted to.

And one day, Beca woke up, and she knew that she and her mother had made it through, helped each other and were on the other side. She was sixteen at the time. She celebrated this realization with of course another mix, a collaboration of her mom's favorites that seamlessly expressed the joy she felt. Her mother cried when she heard it, and told her daughter that she understood perfectly.

Beca's mom was her one solid in life, and she was her person. They watched Grey's Anatomy together on Friday nights and ate Chinese on their porch as they watched the fireworks at New Years together every year. They sang through the dishes every night and danced around the kitchen, and teased each other's crazy morning hair each day. They had movie nights twice a month, whenever her mom could get off work, and always bickered playfully over who got to choose. Her mom brought her joy and was a light to ignite her fire, a thing that had been out for so long that she hadn't been sure would even relight in the beginning.

When Beca was eighteen, the single worst thing of her life occurred. It was worse than the pain of her parent's divorce. It hurt her more than a hundred of the cuts that still scarred her arms.

She had been preparing dinner for her mom, awaiting her arrival home from work one night when the phone rang. She picked it up and was greeted by a grim toned police officer.

"Am I speaking with a Beca Mitchell?" He asked carefully.

"Yes."

"Ms. Mitchell, I'm very sorry to inform you that there's been an accident on the corner of the Taco Bell. Your mother was involved in a head on collision with a semi truck and there were no survivors, but I need you to come over and examine the body to make sure she's correctly identified."

That was the night that Beca's world collapsed. Again.

But this time she couldn't see herself ever coming back.

A year went by, the heroine of our story in a downward spiral. It was like she was fourteen again, except she didn't have her mom to pull her out of it this time. Various tattoos were etched into her skin within this period. A cricket. For the times she and her mother had spent lying on the floor together, the comfortable silences bringing them closer as they listened to the crickets outside calling to one another in the night. The flowers on her shoulder were for the day when she and her mother both finally felt like they could breathe again, the day when Beca made the second significant mix. Her mother wanted to celebrate, so she went to the markets and got the flowers. She arranged them carefully in a vase on the table and they served as a reminder of the two's newfound happiness whenever seen.

She also had a sentenced inked into the middle of her back. It read, "I am titanium," as the song had been a favorite for her and her mom to perform together.

By the time her father cajoled her into receiving "a higher education" as he so fondly called it (a fucking waste of time had been Beca's choice name for it), she was lost to a deep haze.

Her life was a dark night, a burnt out light bulb. She didn't find joy in any of the little things anymore. And there were no big things to give her happiness either.

She'd gone back to doing what her mother had initially described as "just existing". And that was what hurt her most. She was back in the hell that they'd both worked so hard to escape. And the worst thing of all- she couldn't remember the last time she'd sung, or danced, or smiled, or really laughed, the full bellied type of laugh that brings tears to one's eyes.


	2. How a Flame Flickers Out

Barden University was not any different. Beca was still just getting through, never really there in the moment, never really experiencing anything. Her music was a great expression of this, all of her mixes taking a very dark tone. Each was a horrible tale of heartbreak and pain, and listening to them would leave someone with an ache inside them for that one person, that one person that they'd give anything to have back, but could never be with again. The unattainable loves that were still the world to some, even though they were gone from it forever.

She never attended her classes, for the fear of the pain that walking into those rooms would bring. The pain that seeing those teachers would invoke. Because those very lecturers were the people that her father had preferred to stay late and work with instead of coming home to his family for dinner all too many times.

Those classrooms were the places he poured his heart and soul into, instead of investing in their home and family. The courses he taught were what he'd been too busy preparing to be a father to his daughter, especially when she needed him most. They were enough for him when she and her mother were not.

That university was the place he'd walked away from his family to, and Beca didn't know how to exist there.

As well as this, there was a constant question weighing over Beca. The question of what had really happened on the night of her mother's demise. She couldn't help but wonder all the time- had her mother crashed into the truck on purpose?

Had Beca not been enough to keep her mother happy, like she hadn't with her father? Had her mother wanted so badly to leave Beca that she would… _kill_ herself to escape? Had Beca not taken good enough care of her mom? Had all those wonderful grins and elated giggles that had given Beca so much joy, had they all been fake? Had Beca really not known that her mother was still… in that place? Had Beca not realized in time? If she had, would her mother still be there for her? If Beca could have just fucking realized that her mother was going to do that horrible thing to herself, would she have been able to save her?

Was it Beca's fault that her mother was no longer able to dance around the kitchen to a stupid old Madonna song?

Was Beca the reason that the world was deprived of the wonderful radiance her mother used to have?

The horrible truth of the matter is that the answer is yes, Beca did believe all those things to be true. She believed that she was to blame for everything that had gone wrong in her life, her parents' divorce and her mother's premature death. No matter how many police officers, psychologists, family friends, and concerned fathers tried to convince her otherwise, the lies she had told herself over and over were rooted so deeply inside her that she simply couldn't believe anything else.

In other words, she was so deep in _that place_ that she couldn't get out.

There was no way out.

The only way she could go was deeper in.

She continued to draw the lines across her wrist, her suffering an artwork on the body that was her canvas, the pain allowing her to at least feel… something. Something was better than nothing because she knew then that she was still alive, even if she wasn't actually living. A cut for every time she remembered her mom's smile. A cut for every time another of _those_ questions entered her mind. A cut because it was her fault her mother had been in pain. It was only fair that Beca would feel pain too.

And so the dark, impenetrable haze continued to fill Beca's mind and body, almost as if it were seeping through her veins, slowly destroying and consuming her. What was left of her, anyway.

By the end of her first month at Barden, Beca Mitchell constantly felt as if she were drowning in a dark, violent sea, being swept and tossed by the angry waves, forced deeper and deeper into its never-ending ominous depths, desperately craving oxygen and never finding it. But the catch was that there was never an end to her sorrows. She was constantly dying but never ceasing to exist, able to feel mountains of pain but without that comfort of knowing that it would soon be ended. That everything would soon be ended.

And then there was Chloe Beale.

She was a faint light on the horizon, barely visibly through the thick fog that was everywhere in Beca's vision. Beca was still lost in the sea, still drowning in the waves, but there was something out there because of Chloe. Something other than the pain.

It started when Beca had been making a desperate attempt to escape her father. He had come into her room, seeking to make amends and act as though nothing had happened between them. Like he hadn't left them, left her. Like he hadn't stood by and done absolutely nothing when she and her mother both broke. And suddenly it was all too much for her. Beca needed to get out of there so she went to the only place she could to get away. The activities fair.

It was in Chloe's smile. The way she smiled at Beca across the fair did something. Something in Beca's soul. Beca couldn't help but notice that Chloe's smile was like her mom's used to be. Obviously, the two had no physical resemblances. But yet, Chloe's smile had the same glow of life, the one that Beca had worked so hard to bring back, only to have taken from her forever. It hurt her to see such a painstakingly beautiful reminder of her mother. The mother who she'd driven away. For a second, just a second, it felt like there was a trace of a flame flickering. But like a match that had been doused in water, someone was trying to start a fire with nothing there to work with.

Because each person you encounter in life, they have a fire burning in their soul. For some it is a weak flicker that needs protection from things such as wind and water, never able to amount to anything. But even the littlest flames can bring light to an area, can bring warmth to someone.

For others, their fire is larger and more of a force of nature then anything else. They bring warmth to everyone around them and consume everything that gets in their way, allowing their obstacles to feed their fire and make it grow. They are the people that are full of life and strength, the ones that you meet and realize that you want to know them for a very long time. The ones whose smiles illuminate an entire room.

Beca was neither. Her fire, tried and extinguished roughly too many times, was not there. And there was no potential for a fire inside her. There was nothing inside her. She couldn't bring light to anyone, almost having the opposite affect because it sometimes seemed that she was actually darkening the atmosphere around her.

But Chloe Beale was the latter type. Beca could tell just from being grinned at by her that she was one of the select few with a roaring fire inside her. But Beca brushed her off and continued on her way, down the dark and lonely path that she'd travelled so far. Because she didn't want to obscure a force that bright. Not again.


	3. How a Gasp of Air Can Change Everything

**A/N: And alas, there's more. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and feedback is always appreciated, so if you hate it or love it, let me know. Ok. Have fun.**

**WARNING: This has references to self harm and anorexia type things. It could act as a trigger. These things are not used lightly, but for the purpose of the story. My apologies if anyone finds this upsetting. **

* * *

The first breath, or perhaps gasp of air came that same day. Beca was in the shower, the hot water one of the only things that could bring her comfort in those days. As she allowed the steamy mist to fill her body and soften her senses, a voice wafted through the stalls beside her. It was a wonderfully melodic voice, like that of an angel. It was Chloe's.

She was singing Titanium. And with a twinge of pain in her chest, Beca remembered her mother, how they used to sing it together as the days and years slipped by. It was one of the strongest memories of her mom, music having always been the thing that bound them together in tough times, the thing that strengthened their connection and helped them to get through it all together. A tear trickled down Beca's face, lost amongst the many droplets raining down on her from the showerhead, as she realized that she hadn't sung in…. She couldn't even remember the last time she had. It must have been the morning _before_. When they were getting ready to leave, Beca for school and her mom for work, humming along to a song that was lost from Beca's recollection as they munched on their toast. The smile she'd been wearing back then felt foreign to Beca, like it was from another life instead of just a few years ago. She hadn't smiled like that since then either.

One thing that she was sure of was that her mother would hate to know that she hadn't been singing. Her mom had always loved her voice, telling Beca that she was her little songbird. She told Beca that the brunette had the voice that could take her anywhere, whether Beca wanted the brightest lights of Broadway or the top of the charts, her mother had always said that her voice would get her there. And she'd sworn that over her dead body would Beca ever stop singing, because according to her, depriving the world of that beauty was not fair.

Beca smiled sadly as more tears came, knowing that it had been just that, her mother's dead body, that had robbed her of her will to ever sing a note again. It was like having ice cream at that place around the corner from their house, the place called Hamish's. It had Beca's favourite treat to ever have as a child, the one she'd always looked forward to. She cherished those memories of her mother and her sitting across from each other, laughing together and stealing bites of each other's ice cream, telling jokes and stories. She'd never been able to even walk past that shop since.

And she knew that this kind of behavior was unhealthy. The fact that, after a whole year and a half, she was still living in the darkest stage of grief, the one where any reminder of her mother, no matter how small or insignificant still was like someone was creating her wounds all over again. No matter how many times she told herself to just get over it, that her mother was gone and never coming back, and that she wouldn't want Beca to be like this, at the same time she knew that her mom would understand, the only one who would. Because her mother had always gotten Beca's strange way of dealing with things. Even as a kid, she'd always been very sensitive and had the tendency to take a lot of things to heart.

The funny thing is that the one person who she would have wanted to talk to in order to get through all this, or even just feel a little better about it all, was the reason she was feeling this way.

As Chloe reached the chorus, Beca felt a strange urge inside her, like she wanted to sing along. It was quite an odd sensation for her, but she equated it to wanting to see what it felt like. She wondered if singing would give her the same rare grin it used to always put on her face, or whether it would be like hearing about her mom's death all over again. All she knew was that it could really only be uphill from here. So as Chloe's voice rang out with the lines, "I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away," Beca joined in. Chloe was a little startled when she first heard the quiet voice in the other stall, but when she noticed how beautiful it was, she kept singing. Together they both harmonized to the lyrics, "You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium. You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium."

And that was the moment for Beca. Her first gasp of real air, fresh oxygen, in a very long time. She'd been drowning for so long, and then she had a moment with her head finally above water. But I don't want you to get the wrong idea, because a duet in the shower with someone, no matter how amazing it may feel, cannot magically make someone's problems disappear. Especially something that is rooted in such a deeply dark place, such as the overwhelming sense of unfaltering and never-ending depression. Plus, when someone is drowning, even if they take a breath, more often then not they are pushed back under water. A breath does not mean you are safe. She was not out of the water. She was still subject to the devastating strength of the ocean's waves. All a breath of air does is give someone a little more strength to continue for a little longer. But even then, they have to fight to keep going. They have to want to keep going.

After the last notes of the song were lost in the sound of the flowing water, Beca felt more tears come. But they weren't necessarily bad tears. They were still sad, but it was a healthier sad than before. Beca felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and no matter how many others she had or how heavy those others were, at least one was gone. Because everything starts with a little step. She let these tears come more freely than the others, not bothering to hold them back because she felt like maybe it was good to allow herself to feel something for once. Little did she know that Chloe had heard those sobs and was coming into her stall to investigate. When the redhead appeared, tossing the shower curtain aside as if it were nothing, Beca was very startled and hastened to hide her wrists behind her back. She really didn't want another person's pity.

"Are you ok?" Chloe asked, looking down into Beca's eyes as if she were trying to read the younger girl. Beca shied away from her intense glare, wondering who the hell this person thought she was. Of course, she had recognized her from the beginning. It was that girl from the activities fair, the one who'd shown a little interest in Beca, but Beca had decided to leave alone. "Seriously, what's wrong?" She asked again, her voice full of concern as she moved closer to Beca. Apparently this girl had no care whatsoever as to the boundaries of personal space. Beca frowned and hastily reached up to wipe away the tears from her face, as Chloe had turned off the shower and the water was no longer there to mask them.

"It's nothing." Beca said, refusing to open up. She knew that everyone she got close to either left her or got hurt, so she'd given up on trying a long time ago.

"I know something's not right. What's your name?" Chloe asked, leaning even closer.

"Beca." The brunette mumbled, wanting more than anything for this annoyingly perky stranger to leave her alone.

"Well, Beca, I'm not leaving here until you tell me what's wrong." Chloe told her bossily, her eyebrow cocking up in the challenge. When Beca made no move to open her mouth, the redhead feigned a sigh but did not move an inch. "I'm a very stubborn person, Beca, I'll have you know that now before this gets painful." She added. Beca couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her.

"Gets painful?" She repeated in disbelief, unable to fathom how Chloe did not already feel that the situation was rather excruciating.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I'm serious, Becs. Wait is it ok if I call you Becs?" She asked. Beca shook her head. "Well, whatever, I'm going to anyway." Chloe told her. The brunette rolled her eyes.

"Did anyone ever tell you that barging into a perfect stranger's shower uninvited could be considered as rude?" Beca finally muttered after a few moments, shifting her gaze because Chloe's intense staring was kind of unnerving. Chloe grinned.

"It's part of my charm." She winked. "Plus, you can't tell me that you haven't been at least a little turned on by the fact that there's a hot girl naked with you in the shower."

"I honestly haven't." Beca murmured, lying of course but she wasn't about to admit that.

"Wow. I'm actually a little offended." Chloe said, pouting for a second but then cracking a grin. "It's probably good though because it'll make waiting for you to finally tell me what's up a lot easier if I know you're not visualizing us doing it the whole time."

"Well, you know, glad to be of service then." The brunette mumbled. "But why do you even care? You don't even know me."

Chloe shrugged. "I don't know. But something's telling me that there's a lot more to you then you let on. You're a beautiful girl, Beca, and you have an amazing voice. I'd hate to think that something is hurting you, and so if I could possibly help, I want to."

Beca gave her a tight smile. "What if the side of me that I'm hiding is actually really dark and it would send you running for the hills? What if I tell you that nothing you do could actually help?" Beca challenged.

Chloe bit her lip, wondering how much she should reveal, how much was appropriate considering that this was the first time they'd even talked. "Honestly, Beca, let's just say, there's not much that scares me anymore." Was all she said.

"Okay. But I still don't want to say anything." Beca insisted. "I mean, we're standing naked in a shower and we just met. I can't even focus on what you're saying until you cover your junk." She muttered.

Chloe raised her eyebrows. "So my junk _does_ distract you! Ha! I knew it."

Beca sighed. This girl was very unusual, that was for sure.

"Well, how about this, Beca. I'll make you a proposition. You finish up in here and get dressed and I'll meet you outside afterwards. We'll go for coffee, fully dressed so that my junk will be only minimally distracting." Chloe told her, grinning coyly at the end. Beca scowled.

"Whatever. If it makes you leave, ok." She murmured. Chloe beamed.

"Ok, then. I'll see you after." She said as she left the stall. As she walked away, Beca heard her add, "And don't try to run away because trust me, I'll find your dorm and hunt you down." Chloe laughed to herself as she closed her curtain, and all Beca could do was roll her eyes.


	4. How a Question Can Ruin It All

**A/N: Ok, next bit is here. Thanks for all the reviews/favourites/follows, it's great. I hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading.**

Beca hadn't thought that Chloe was serious about going out for coffee. She hadn't planned on actually going with her, just saying yes to appease the redhead so she'd be left alone to finish her shower. Beca didn't bother with making friends. It just made everything even harder, and she felt like all the people who she'd opened up to in the past couldn't handle the nature of most of her musings and views on things. So she refrained.

But when Beca made her way out of the bathrooms, there Chloe was waiting for her. At the sight of Beca's weary scowl, the redhead chuckled. "You should have realized I would follow through before you said yes." Chloe told her, taking her hand without hesitation and giving it a small tug as she led her down the hall. Beca blushed at this but, as with all things involving personal space awkwardness, Chloe was oblivious to it. "I know a great little place just down the street." The older woman had said as they wove their way through the students that had just filled the corridor. They stopped briefly on their way to drop off their shower things, but then before Beca knew it, they were standing in front of Stanley's Coffee Shop.

After they ordered and took a seat, Chloe explained to Beca that she'd been going to this place since she first discovered it in her freshman year. She said she'd been about to pull an all nighter for a major assignment and needed to have a good supply of caffeine on hand, so did some investigating found this place. After trying their coffee, she never turned back. Beca looked around and could see what the redhead liked about it. It had a very cozy feel to it and although all of the furniture was rather worn, it only seemed to add to its charm and make the place overall rather endearing. Again, with a twinge, Beca noticed that this was exactly the sort of place that her mother would discover and fall in love with, and end up dragging Beca there for breakfast every other Saturday. The brunette tried not to dwell on the fact that she would have loved to have weekly meals here with her mother, knowing the idea of meeting her mom somewhere near campus to discuss her classes and collegiate experiences would have made getting her degree so much better. Her mom had made every aspect of her life better, of course.

Chloe kept talking and Beca remained mostly silent all the while, staring out the window and nodding occasionally but not enough that the redhead was fooled. Chloe could tell she wasn't invested in the conversation at all.

"You know I'm not going to leave you alone, Beca." Chloe spoke up after a bit. Beca's eyes shot up to meet hers, which were narrowed challengingly. "I'm going to keep bugging you until you're my friend so you may as well give up that attitude and get over yourself now instead of later." She told her. Beca sighed quietly, her face twisting into a sad smile, one tainted with the morose cloud that seemed to always nearby, because it's only fair that the violent storm that Beca was stuck in the devastating waves of would be accompanied by ominous black clouds hanging overhead.

"So I'm guessing me telling you that I don't really have time or energy for friends would not change anything?" Beca asked dejectedly, sort of already knowing the answer.

Chloe nodded, smiling at the brunette. "All of that means absolutely nothing to me. I'm a great friend. You'll be glad one day that I've been bugging you, I know it."

Beca thought for a moment. "You're really weird you know that?" She muttered, resorting to using her well built up defense mechanism of sarcastic remarks and cutting comments.

Chloe poked her tongue out. "I'm not weird, I'm awesome. Don't worry, you'll find out in time." She said. Beca bit her lip and was about to open her mouth and say more but their order was called out so they went to fetch their drinks.

When they sat back down with their coffees, Chloe began to question Beca. It started with things such as favourite colors and what type of music she enjoyed, as well as most loved movie of all time ("I don't like movies." Beca insisted. She didn't want to reveal the reason for this, that movies had been one of her favourite things to do with her mom, and was rather reluctant to discuss it further, because she wished more than anything that she could have another of the movie nights she used to love with her mom). There was also the question of reasoning for coffee choices. Beca had said that she just liked lattes, simple as that, but Chloe had scoffed and said there's much more to it than that. "For instance, I drink double shot white chocolate mochas because even though I do like coffee, I have a major sweet tooth and love all things chocolatey. I have a double shot because it takes a hell of a lot of energy to be this perky all the time and I need to stay on top of things." Chloe said, taking a sip of her drink. Beca rolled her eyes, insisting that she liked lattes because they tasted good and that was it. Chloe glowered at her for not participating in the game, and all the while Beca couldn't help but realize that she was sort of beginning to take pleasure in the redhead's company. Not that she really wanted to become attached to this whirlwind of a character, but she sort of enjoyed the her being around, and let's face it… Chloe's grin kind of did things inside her. It was like when Chloe smiled, Beca disliked the fact that she was this mess of a person, that she was so stuck in _that_ place. She wanted so badly to be the kind of person who could compliment Chloe's roaring fire, instead of being the sort of person who'd put it out in due time. She sort of found herself wishing that she could be the one who'd be right for someone like Chloe, one who still had hope for the future and dreams and goals, instead the person who she really was- someone stuck in the events of previous years, unable to move or even breathe properly, unable to feel anything at all. She couldn't believe it, but for the first time since her mother's death, she wished that she didn't just exist. She wondered what it would feel like to live again. The fact that someone she'd only known for a day could do this to her very much unnerved Beca. But all the same, Beca couldn't ignore the fact that Chloe was slowly but surely getting deeper and deeper under her skin and she was unsure of whether that was a good idea.

As hours passed and the day wore on from morning to afternoon, they hadn't moved from their seats and Chloe was still firing questions at Beca and the brunette was still providing her with answers, even though she didn't know why she was even telling her these things. Eventually the topics shifted deeper- instead of asking about Beca's favorite band, the redhead wanted to discuss things like her worst fears and insecurities about herself. And then Chloe asked the question she'd been dreading most.

"Why do you cut yourself?" She'd asked gently, her voice quiet.

Beca's face changed so quickly that you'd have missed it with a blink, the albeit hesitant but slightly more open expression that had been occupying her features replaced with a bitter scowl as her eyes seemed to freeze over, leaving them cold and distant, like a whole other person. But there had been another thing there as well. Just for a second, a fleeting emotion that had been displayed before the walls that Chloe had worked so hard at had come flying back up with alarming speed. Chloe could have sworn that, before the brunette's practiced mask had come into play, Beca had seemed… vulnerable. Chloe thought maybe even a little hurt, but of course it was gone before she could discern it properly.

"What? What do you mean?" Beca's words were the quiet, measured tone that Beca had practiced to perfection over the years, all part of the act.

Chloe saw through her cold façade, able to tell that this was all just part of the defense. "Beca I saw the marks on your arm in the shower. But it's ok, I'm not judging. I'm just wondering why someone as amazing as you would feel the need to." She murmured softly, reaching over to squeeze Beca's knee gently. Beca recoiled and stood up, stating that she didn't want to talk about it before stalking away, out the door.

_Case in point_, Beca thought acrimoniously to herself as she crossed the street to the campus, headed for her dorm. She'd been right in her hesitance to open up to people. It never worked. No one ever understood any of what she was feeling. Beca should have known from the beginning that Chloe would be exactly the same. She didn't even know why she'd bothered with her, having equated the whole thing to having a feeling about the redhead, that maybe this girl was different, maybe she'd be better than the others had. That, and also the fact that Chloe probably wouldn't have left her alone so she didn't really have a choice in the end. _Well, lesson learnt, _Beca thought, _everyone is exactly the same._

She was rounding the corner to her building when she heard someone calling out her name. She threw a look over her shoulder and saw that the person was Chloe. Beca kept walking. She'd known that the older woman was stubborn but this was really just too far. She hoped that Chloe would get the message soon and just leave her alone. All this was really just too much and Beca could tell she was about to break down and she wanted to be alone when she did.

"Beca stop." Chloe pleaded, looking genuinely worried as she walked beside the brunette who was currently ignoring her, turning away to swipe angrily at the tears forming in her eyes without Chloe seeing. "Seriously, I need to talk to you. There are some things that you didn't give me a chance to explain and you need to know them. Please." The redhead repeated, trying to take Beca's hand but being brushed aside. She kept up with the younger woman and in due course, they made it back to Beca's room. As Beca was fishing the keys out of her bag, Chloe saw her chance and grabbed at it. Beca was cornered so now she could finally clarify some things.

"Bec-" She began but Beca cut her off with a hand held up for silence.

"You know what?" Beca asked, finally meeting Chloe's gaze for the first time since they'd been inside the coffee shop. Chloe could see the tears filling Beca's closed off orbs, and her heart broke to realize how much the brunette must have been going through. "We don't even know each other. I've been trying to figure it out and I honestly can't understand why you can't just leave me the fuck alone, and you can go back to your happy little life and I can go back to… well, whatever I have here. We can just pretend that nothing ever happened and leave it at that. It wouldn't be too hard, Chloe. Actually, it'd be a hell of a lot easier for both of us." Beca told her. She hadn't meant to lash out at Chloe but this was her only form of self-preservation and she found that her voice was dripping with malice as she basically spat each word into the older woman's face. Chloe shied away from the venom in Beca's tone, but refused to back down all the same even if she was a little scared.

"Beca, I can see something in you. I know what you're going through and you shouldn't have to do it alone." She insisted weakly, trying her best to remain in check with her previous confidently assured attitude.

"Jesus!" Beca exclaimed, finally unlocking her door and stepping inside. Before Chloe could follow her in, she turned in the doorway to face the redhead, blocking her entrance. "Do I really need to spell it out for you?" She asked in disbelief. Chloe frowned, unsure of what she meant. "You have no effing idea of even a fraction of what I feel. I am not some poor little broken bird that you can nurse back to health. And did you ever stop to think for just one second that maybe I'd be better off on my own? There's some things someone like you would never understand and to be honest, I would appreciate it if you could just mind your own fucking business." Beca's voice had risen greatly in volume so that she was nearly shouting, and she reinforced her final statement by slamming the door in the redhead's face. She didn't know why she did any of those things. In all honesty, she didn't want to push Chloe away. She wanted to let her in because Chloe gave her something to hold onto, like a life ring that you'd toss out to someone fallen overboard. She wanted to tell Chloe about everything that had ever hurt her, and in term wanted to know the same about the redhead. She wanted to learn all those little things that made the girl tick and to be able to be there for her when she needed it. But how could Beca do such a thing when it meant that she'd be opening herself up to pain, and the possibility that she could lose Chloe in the end? She really couldn't take it if it were to all collapse again. She'd barely scraped through the first two times and if it happened again... She'd lose herself entirely.

So Chloe was left standing outside Beca's dorm in a state of hurt bewilderment, not moving, not feeling, not knowing, as a lone tear slid down her face and she felt the brunette's cutting words sink in, their effects like someone forcing a dagger through her chest. Like a bucket of ice water thrown onto the flame inside her.

And Beca was left on her own to cry herself to sleep, craving the arms of someone who cared to wrap themselves around her and keep her safe, but instead alone with nothing but the pain that had built up inside her.


	5. Haven't We Suffered Enough?

Chloe continued to pursue the brunette, who in turn continued to blatantly ignore her. Truthfully, Beca hated the way she was treating this girl. Chloe, with her wonderful smile and will to care even before she knew the problem, seemed to Beca like she'd be exactly what Beca would need to figure out how to turn around, and stop delving further and further into the dark mist that was looming ahead of her. Chloe seemed like the kind of person who'd grab Beca by the wrist and lead her back in the other direction, shoving obstacles and barriers aside as if they were nothing. Chloe's never dulling glow seemed to Beca the thing that would reach into the violently thrashing waves of the ocean's wrath and pull her right out.

So badly, Beca wanted to envelop herself in Chloe's warmth so that she too could grow to have a warmth so vast that it would spread to fill other people's lives with ease. But at the same time, Beca wanted to give Chloe a chance to escape her world unscathed, a feat that not many had managed. She wanted to save the redhead from the inevitable heartbreak that would follow, should they continue any further in their relationship.

Because, if she ended up being the one to even so much as dull the roaring flames inside Chloe, Beca would never forgive herself. So she pushed Chloe away.

It took two weeks worth of Beca ignoring the notes shoved under the her door, rushing away whenever Chloe caught up to her between classes, and refusing the lattes the redhead had bought her from Stanley's for Chloe to finally catch on and leave her alone. To be fair, the senior had known all along that Beca would be difficult, but she'd hoped that she'd be able to be the one to break through those strong walls the young DJ had built. In the end, Chloe had to settle with the fact that at least she'd tried. So that was something. And hopefully Beca would know she was there to help, should the brunette ever need it.

Beca knew she should have been happy when she made it through the first day without seeing so much as a glimpse of the older woman's scarlet locks. She knew she should have been glad. I mean, there was one less thing for her to worry about. It should have been a good thing.

But instead of celebrating, Beca made her way back to her dorm as fast as she could after her last class and wept. She lay in her bad and cried. For the girl she'd only ever talked to a handful of times, yet the one who was featured more frequently in her mind than anything else. She just let herself fall apart completely. Because sure, for Chloe, it was a disaster avoided, which although the redhead may not have realized, was a good thing. But for her? It was absolutely horrible.

That was the evening her night terrors began. As she slept, Beca was subject to watching as her brain took her fondest memories of her mother and twisted and mutilated them beyond recognition, beyond description. Beca would see her mother's smile and it would be just like it used to, full of life and warmth. But then suddenly, the scene would shift so that her mother's eyes, which had once been full of love and wisdom, were drained of any traces of happiness forever. Beca would end up stuck watching as that light slowly slipped out of her mother's lifeless form, and all she could do was stand there. There was literally nothing that could be done to save her. Beca screamed and shrieked, calling out for help, for someone to do something, but no one ever came. Night after night.

Whenever it happened, Kimmy Jin would try to wake her, but her attempts were rendered futile. Beca was stuck in the never-ending nightmares with no way of resurfacing. Which, funnily enough, seemed to describe her life rather well at that point.

It went on for three nights before Kimmy Jin gave up hope that it would just be an occasional occurrence. At a loss for what to do, her eyes fell upon one of the many notes that Chloe had given Beca, which were sitting in the bin. The piece of paper in question had the following message scrawled across it in neat handwriting.

_Beca, look I'm sorry that I asked you that. I was out of line. _

_But I would really like to talk to you. So will you please just call me?_

_Chloe x_

As well as this, it had the redhead's number. So, before she knew what she was doing, Kimmy Jin had picked up her phone and dialed it. After a short conversation, Chloe agreed to help. The senior was on her way to see what she could do.

Chloe was there ten minutes later. She let herself in and walked over to Beca's bed, where the brunette was curled up in a fetal position with an expression of great anguish and tear tracks marring her face. A tear slid down Chloe's face as she noticed how small Beca looked. More petite than ever, Beca resembled a helpless child in this moment, her unconscious status meaning that she was failing to block people out like she normally did. The absence of her solid walls allowed her real emotions to surface instead of the careful façade. So, at that point, Beca looked vulnerable and… lost. The older woman, not sure of what else to do, lay down next to Beca and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl's waist. It seemed to help a little because Beca's face appeared to relax a little and she nestled further into the safety of Chloe's embrace.

And for the first time, Beca wasn't alone at sea. Sure, the waves were thrashing wildly around her, but Chloe was helping her slowly come back to the surface. Although, in the beginning, Beca had thought of the redhead as the mere presence of the hope of something else, she was so much more than that. Chloe was like that one crazy sailor who'd brave the storm because there's someone over board and she weren't going to rest until they were safe. She'd put everything on the line for Beca.

Chloe Beale was her lifeline.

After Beca slept soundly for about an hour, Chloe made to get off the bed. She knew the brunette didn't want her around, so she figured she'd go now that her job was apparently done and Beca would never have to hear from her again. She went to stand, but was stopped by Beca's hand, which was holding onto the hem of her tank top. Beca's subconscious state was asking the question she never normally would. She was asking for Chloe to stay, willing her to. With a sigh, Chloe climbed back into the bed and wrapped herself around Beca, allowing her warmth to encircle and envelop the smaller girl once again.

"Don't worry, Becs. I've got you. I won't leave you. You're safe with me." Chloe whispered, pressing a kiss to Beca's forehead. The brunette's face twisted into a small smile and she let out a sigh of contentment.

When Beca woke up the next morning, the ginger locks splayed across her pillow and the arms around her body alarmed her. That is, until she identified their owner. Chloe was still sound asleep, a small, peaceful smile gracing her face.

The freshman had no idea why she was there. All she remembered was feeling inescapable, horrifying pain until some sense of tranquility had enveloped her. Maybe Chloe had been that. Beca probably shouldn't have been surprised at this, she noted with a scowl.

Of course Chloe would be the source of undeniable serenity that Beca had felt.

Beca didn't wait around for Chloe to wake up, quietly retrieving her things before making her way out of the dorm. It was so much harder to stay away from the ginger when she was there telling Beca how much she wanted to help, that she understood. To be honest, denying herself the possibility of conversation just made isolating the girl who kept edging her way into Beca's life a lot easier. So she left. To avoid doing something stupid and caving into her impulses, which were begging her to let Chloe in.

At the sound of the door closing, Chloe was awoken. When she noticed the absence of the tiny brunette, she rushed to get out of the bed and follow after her. As she jogged down the hall, not caring that her hair was a total mess or that she was wearing her pajamas, Chloe saw a flash of Beca's brunette locks disappearing around the corner. But when she rounded it, Chloe couldn't see Beca anywhere. The DJ had slipped through her fingers once again.

Groaning, Chloe went back to Beca's dorm to get her things. She moved the mouse on Beca's monitor to check the time and her eyes caught sight of a song on the desktop titled "Chloe". She really hadn't meant to snoop, but it was her name and it was right there, so she pressed play and slipped Beca's headphones over her ears.

_She said, "hello mister, pleased to meet ya."_

_I wanna hold her, I wanna kiss her._

_She smelled of daisies, she smelled of daisies._

_She drive me crazy, she drive me crazy._

_Came up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry,_

_You don't know how lovely you are. _

_I had to find you, tell you I need you, _

_Tell you I set you apart. _

_Tell me your secrets, ask me your questions,_

_Oh let's go back to the start._

_Running in circles, chasing up tails_

_Heads on a science apart._

_Nobody said it was easy. _

_It's such a shame for us to part._

_Nobody said it was easy,_

_No one ever said it would be this hard. _

_Oh, take me back to the start._

_And you will hold my heart inside your hands._

_And you'll be the one to tell me,_

_Oh, we've got a long, long way to go,_

_To get there, we'll get there. _

_Take me, take me, out into the night._

_Show me, show me, wonders and delights._

_Faces round a fire._

_Lights across the sky,_

_ Hold me, hold me, I am like a child._

_Waiting, waiting, oceanless and wide._

_For the night to pass. Whispers in the dark._

_And those I love,_

_Will carry me home, will carry me home._

_Longing to leave but begging to feel that something will make you stay_

_Gotta believe that this all leads to somewhere we've never been._

_Tired of the guilt, tired of being sorry,_

_Well, haven't we suffered enough?_

_We won't run, we can fight_

_All that keeps us up at night_

_There is far to go now_

_Let's not waste a minute more._

_You're the only one who saves me _

_Out of the cold you take me,_

_Set me on fire._

_You save me._

_Set me on fire._

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know it's short, but it's sort of a filler chapter. In case you were wondering, the songs used in the "Chloe" mash-up were ****_Big Jet Plane_**** by Angus & Julia Stone, ****_The Scientist _****by Coldplay, ****_We Will Not Grow Old_**** by Lenka, ****_The Witching Hour_**** by Philip Selway, ****_We Won't Run _****by Sarah Blasko, and finally ****_Set Me on Fire _****by Missy Higgins. Thanks for reading. And reviews are highly appreciated. But no pressure.**


	6. Only One Chance to Get Through to You

**A/N: Once again, sorry for how long this has taken but it's here now. And this chapter is dedicated to the anon from earlier today. You know who you are. I hope that even though I can't save you from your problems that I can at least make you feel a little better, because no one should have to feel like they're alone. **

After a few nights of the wandering over at two in the morning when Beca's subconscious got the best of her, Chloe came into Beca's room and got into bed with her before the brunette had got to sleep. When Beca protested, Chloe told her that they both knew she'd end up coming over at some point in the night and she was just saving herself the trouble and doing it now. Beca went to get out of the bed, but then Chloe's arms wrapped themselves around her waist and she was filled with this amazing sense of peace. It was like some blinding sunlight had fought its way through the storm clouds above her and was warming the icy water around her. It felt so great that Beca thought just maybe for once she'd let herself have one night of weakness. So she didn't get out of the bed, instead trying to snuggle closer to Chloe without the redhead noticing because the older woman honestly felt better than anything she'd ever experienced. Chloe chuckled quietly, not missing the fact that Beca was now flush against her and a small smile had formed on the DJ's face.

* * *

During the night, their positions shifted so that, instead of Chloe facing Beca's back, they were facing each other, and their legs tangled themselves together. When Beca woke up, she still had a soft sense of happiness and a smile on her face. She'd had a really nice dream for once, her subconscious imagining her and Chloe going to Beca's mom's for dinner as a couple. Beca's mom had of course loved Chloe, which had delighted the redhead, even though the whole time, Beca had been insistent that she knew it would happen.

She grinned and snuggled closer to Chloe before coming back to reality with a start. Chloe, having woken up as Beca quickly withdrew her arms from around her, yawned and stretched her limbs. "Morning, Beca." She said lazily, turning to the brunette, who was now lying as far away from her as possible on the tiny bed with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. "Care to warm me up? It's awfully cold over here." Chloe opened her arms, but Beca only rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine thank you." Beca mumbled.

"You seemed to feel differently last night." Chloe remarked, smirking at the memory.

Beca blushed violently. "I don't know what you're talking about." She muttered stiffly, wishing Chloe would just drop it.

"Fine. Maybe next time." Chloe said, smiling. "So. Are you going to keep pushing me out today or finally get over yourself and hear me out? I mean, not that the whole "no one understands me, my life is so hard!" thing doesn't work for you, but it's getting a little old, Becs."

Beca turned to glare at Chloe. "I have to go. I have a class." She said coldly, getting up from the bed and rummaging through her drawers for clean or at least relatively clean clothes. She turned to the door and found herself face to face with Chloe, who was standing in front of it, blocking her exit.

"Please Beca," the older girl asked, her radiant blue eyes pleading. "Just give me a chance to explain myself. And then I'll leave you alone." She said. Beca thought for a while and bit her lip. She didn't know what it was that made her do it, but it was probably the fact that she was so tired of running from Chloe. Whatever it was, Beca sighed and sat back down on the bed.

"Fine." She mumbled. There was a silence following as Beca looked at Chloe expectantly. "You know, this is generally the part where you say something." Beca pointed out curtly.

"Sorry, I hadn't actually planned what I was going to say, I honestly didn't think you were going to put your stubbornness aside long enough to say yes." Chloe chuckled.  
Beca noted that for someone who often felt like her saving grace, Chloe sure liked to tease her. If it were anyone else, Beca wouldn't have put up with it, but with Chloe it just kind of felt like a cute type of stupid instead of being annoying and she kind of liked it, not that she'd willingly admit it to anyone.

"Come on Beale, I'm waiting here." Beca said, her tone feigning exasperation even though she would have been perfectly happy to sit in that room with Chloe all day.

"Give me a second to get my story together." Chloe shot back. "I only have one chance to get through to you." She said. Beca tried not to smile. "Ok." Chloe said after a second, taking a deep breath. She crossed the room to Beca and sat down on the bed next to the brunette, and pulled up the sleeves of the oversized sloppy joe that was her pajama top. Beca gasped as she saw lots of pink lines all up and down Chloe's arm. She reached out to touch the scars that were a stark contrast against creamy skin; her fingers brushing over them as if she hoped her touch could erase them. Tears formed in her eyes because the thought of Chloe doing something like this to herself was truly horrifying and soon she couldn't take it anymore so she pulled Chloe's sleeve back down gently.

A few moments passed. "Why?" Beca whispered softly, the tears falling freely down her face.

Chloe smiled sadly, looking across the room as she saw the things Beca couldn't see, the events of her past. "When I was a freshman, I came to school one day, and there was this new girl. Her name was Rachel, I think. I've kind of tried to block her out of my memory." Chloe said, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve as she tried to keep her calm, even though she was reliving the hardest part of her life. "I don't know why, maybe she had some stuff going on at home or something, but for some reason, she singled me out. She made me her number one target because that's what she did- she was a bully. So every day for two years, she taunted me relentlessly, calling me fat and ugly and stupid and… and a whole bunch of other things that I don't even want to think about. Once, she slipped a razor into my locker with a note saying, "we both know you're a waste of space so you might as well save us some time and kill yourself now." So eventually, when it got too hard, I just thought, you know, maybe she's right. So I began to use it to cut myself. I tried to hide it from people because I didn't want my parents to find out. They were both so loving and supportive, I didn't want them to worry or feel like they'd done something wrong, because really, it wasn't them. It wasn't hard to hide my scars for the most part, anyway. Rachel made me a social outcast so I had no friends." Chloe admitted in an oddly detached tone, laughing bitterly at the memories. Beca found her hand reaching up of its own accord to gently wipe away the tears that were falling down Chloe's face. "But then, one day, she saw them in gym class. Then, it got even worse. Which, believe me, I wouldn't have thought was possible." Chloe stopped and took a deep breath, gathering herself. "I don't really want to go into detail, but she began to leave me more of the uh, notes. They were all pretty similar, mostly about how I was making a good start but I just needed to finish it all already. She suggested ways that I could… um, go about it." At this, Beca was shaking with fury and she honestly wanted to kill whoever that Rachel girl was. She couldn't even imagine the kind of person that it would take to do that kind of stuff. "One day, my parents were talking about how my grades had been slipping and they'd noticed that I didn't seem myself and they asked if I was ok. I lied. I plastered on a smile, and told them I was fine and I was just being a teenager. You know how easy it is to fool people. But then, that night, I just couldn't take it. I think that was the final straw, lying to my parents. Anyway, I uh, tried to…. To kill myself. But they found me as I was bleeding and took me to the hospital. Once I recovered, I was put into a mental institution for two months before we packed up and left the state." Chloe finished her tale, turning to Beca. A silence filled the room as Beca tried to figure out how to answer. She was too stunned, too sad, too angry, to even move.

"Chloe… I'm so sorry." Beca whispered.  
"Don't be. I'm working through it now. I don't need your sympathy, I just wanted you to believe that I really do get whatever it is you're going through, and I want you to not have to go through it alone because I did and it nearly took my life." Chloe said.

"It's not that… It's just that I was trying to save you from the shit that constantly follows me around." Beca admitted, edging closer to Chloe a little. Chloe smiled, wiping the tears off Beca's face with the pad of her thumb, staring into Beca's eyes as if she were trying to look into the brunette's soul.

"I'm a big girl, you know. I can take care of myself." She told Beca.

"I know. I just… Well, I guess I couldn't stand the thought of hurting someone like you because I know that you're different from everyone else. You're… I don't know… more? Does that make sense?" Beca asked quietly.

"Well, let me make you a deal." Chloe proposed. "You don't worry about hurting me. Just be yourself and let me be here for you, and I'll tell you if you're doing anything wrong. Agreed?" Chloe asked, holding out her hand. Beca took it, although hesitantly, and shook her hand.

"Ok." She said.

And that was that.

Suddenly, Beca wasn't alone on the path. And although she knew that it probably wasn't the best place for someone like Chloe, but everything had just got so much _brighter_ and Beca didn't feel like she was travelling into the darkness anymore.

She felt like maybe it was ok that Chloe was there with her because the redhead's warmth was so infectious that Beca lost sight of all the waves and the madness when she was there. When Chloe was there, Beca felt… herself again. Or at least relatively closer to herself than she'd been in a very, very long time. So maybe, she figured, although the path is best travelled alone, two could do it too.

**A/N: I hope you liked it. Reviews are highly welcomed but of course, never mandatory. Thank you. **


End file.
